Second Glance
by scribbled.ink
Summary: No one ever noticed Wally West. No one saw the boy who was silently screaming; who, if he could, would shout until his heart gave way for help. But that Christmas Eve, as he sat alone on a bench in the crisp winter air, someone had. Someone finally noticed. And that was all he had ever wanted. Oneshot. Warning: hints of child abuse.


The crisp air nipped his nose, turning it an alarming shade of red, and he quickened his pace. It was snowing, or rather, it had been snowing, and he had lost all feeling in the toes from inside his ratty, old, paper thin sneakers. It hurt to walk, and he had blisters on every inch of his foot, but still, he hurried along the pavement.

The sidewalks weren't too crowded, despite it being Christmas Eve. However, there were still enough people to stop him from speeding home in a few seconds. He was on the less busy side of town, and the outrageously busy malls and shops were a few blocks behind him. He was maybe a mile from home, now.

Quickly, he pulled up the sleeve of his loose jacket to see the time- almost ten. He then sighed, then walking even faster. If anyone had watched long enough-which they didn't- they might've noticed how it was faster than normal for a average human, and that he was walking far quicker than any civilian. But they didn't.

Know one ever noticed him. Sure, they marveled at the Christmas lights, and the toys in the windows, and yeah, they noticed their neighbors and friends from across the street; but no one ever noticed him. They might've caught a glimpse as they brushed shoulders on the street, but they didn't _look_.

No one saw the teenage boy, in nothing but a small jacket and a short sleeved shirt, drag himself through the town, in hopes he might get home in time not to anger his drunk father yet again. No one saw the boy, with stray tear streaks on his face and bruises on his body, and limp in his step. No one saw the boy who was terrified of going home. No one saw the boy who was silently screaming; who, if he could, would shout until his heart gave way, for help.

No one ever saw him. No one ever saw Wally West.

He turned another corner, maybe ten minutes from his house, when his phone rang. He kept walking, trying to ignore it, but the pestering thing just wouldn't stop. He didn't want to pick it up- he knew who it was. But if he didn't... Slowly, he pulled it out of his jeans pocket, and looked at the furiously bright screen standing out more than the dangling lights.

He knew who it was...

Dad.

His thumb hovered over the answer button for a moment, before he shoved it back in his pocket. Not tonight- any night but tonight. His hand trailed up to his neck, where he traced the purple fingerprints from the events of earlier that day after he was too slow to duck from his drunken father's rage.

He sat down on a bench, piled with snow, just outside his neighborhood. Quietly, he balled his hands into fists, began to cry. Tears flowed down his face, and he continued to cry, letting all of his feelings, all of his locked up anger and insecurities. People passed by, and not a single person batted an eye.

No one noticed the boy who was silently screaming, who, if he could, would shout until his heart gave way, for help.

That was all he wanted.

That was all he _needed. _

But no one ever came.

Until that night.

An old lady, who had been walking alone, passed the bench Wally sat on, when she suddenly stopped, and turned around. Then, she retraced her steps, and sat right next to him. It took a few seconds before he realized what she had done. Then, he looked up at her through his teary and glazed eyes, confused, as if motioning to himself, and asking, 'Me?'

She then grasped his hand in hers, at which he flinched in fear, and opened it wide. For a moment, she shuffled through her small bag of a purse, and pulled something out in her palm. She placed in his hand, and smiled. The wrinkles by he mouth moved, and her eyes twinkled like the snow.

"It's going to be okay," she said softly. Then, she stood up, before whispering "Merry Christmas," and walked away.

Wally watched her leave, and after she was long gone, he looked down to what she had given him.

It was a rolled up ten dollar bill.

A small, little ten dollar bill, with one corner lightly torn and the colors faded and dulled. Any other day, he would have laughed; she must have thought he was homeless. But that it wasn't anything big. In fact, he would've bet that no one who had passed by them gave a care about what had happened. No, it was nothing big, and it was a rather small gesture. But to Wally, it meant the world. It meant more than the world.

It didn't mean that things would suddenly be okay. He probably had it coming to him when he got home, heck, it had to be almost eleven. His dad was really going to give it to him. But, tonight, he didn't mind.

No one ever noticed Wally West.

But that night, someone had. It wasn't a hero, dressed in a cape, who came swooping in. It was a random person, who he might never meet again, who gave he all that he had wanted. And at that, he smiled. He really smiled.

.

.

.

Fin.

* * *

><p>Okay, so there is my Christmas one shot! I had tried to make it fluff, but, of course, I had some angst, like always. Because why not.<p>

Merry Christmas!

And if you don't celebrate Christmas, then this is probably awkward... oh well.

I don't know if I'll update a story or not before New Years, so, if I don't... Well, I'll just say it here. Thanks for fantabulous year, guys! I reached so many milestones that I can't even imagine! My first fic I ever wrote got to 20,000 views, in around May, and I posted a crap ton of one shots. I got so many favorites and reviews and follows, and all in all, you guys are awesome! Have a great rest of the year! :)


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